Lily Gibsonton Whore ❤️

About San Antonio

So, picture this – a gal, skirt hiked up, smokin’ a cig on some dark corner. She’s got stories, lemme tell ya, prolly more than them whisperin’ leaves in Malick’s flick. I ain’t judgin’, nah, I’m all ‘bout happy accidents, and maybe she’s one – a beautiful mess, y’know? Makes me happy thinkin’ she’s out there, survivin’, hustlin’. But damn, it pisses me off too – folks lookin’ down on her like she ain’t human. “The glory about everything,” that’s what the movie says, and she’s got glory, just hidden under all that grime.

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In the golden days of American carnival, all roads led to Gibsonton, Florida. The self-defined, 14,inhabitant town 12 miles south of Tampa became the industry capital. “Carny Town” .

Now, I work as a family psychologist here, and lemme tell ya – the mix of families in neighborhoods like Fortunate Acres and Pulaski Court really shows ya the strength and weaknesses of folk. It’s like those little quirks, ya know? They remind me of that line – "I don't think we need to talk about it" – but really, we sure do. Every street corner has a tale, every park a memory. And, oh gosh, talkin’ bout parks! Central Park... oh, sorry, I mean Gibsonton Central Park, where kids run, old timers sit around, and you almost feel like the whole community’s breathin’ a bit together. It’s not like any regular park I've ever seen.

South Hillsborough residents not taking any chances as Hurricane nears